More Alike than He Thought
by Cravat of Doom
Summary: Klavier looks a lot like his brother, that's for certain. But the similarities run deeper than that.


**More Alike than He Thought**

"Guess who I'm defending tomorrow?" Kristoph added yet another packet of sugar to his coffee. Klavier couldn't understand how one person could stand that much sweetness, but then again, he drank his coffee black.

"Uhh... Me, but I just don't know it yet?"

"Phoenix Wright."

"Him?!"

"Yes. Murder. He's under suspicion for murdering a traveller named Shadi Smith during a game of poker."

"Poker? The legendary Herr Wright plays poker? That's very....depressing. Aren't you two...friends, or something?" Klavier had to pry the dish of sugar from Kristoph's hands to prevent him from adding any more sweeteners.

"I suppose so, yes." A flash of anger overcame Kristoph's face.

"Wow. And do you...er... think he did it?"

"I don't know. Does it really matter? My job is to find him innocent, whether he is guilty or not isn't really my concern."

Klavier didn't say anything. He disagreed with his brother on this topic, and they often had arguments over this. Klavier believed the truth was important, while Kristoph had always said otherwise, that it made no difference whatsoever. He didn't open his mouth, though, because he wanted this visit to remain pleasant. He hardly saw Kristoph anymore, what with having two jobs that took up most of his time.

Kristoph changed the subject.

"Have any concerts coming up?"

"Ja. Tomorrow, actually. Midnight, at the civic center. Would you like some tickets?" Klavier laughed, as the elder Gavin always refused. He wasn't really the type to enjoy loud rock music.

"Yes, actually, I wouldn't mind that. I haven't seen you perform in almost three years."

Klavier's mouth fell open. "Wow, Krissi, you've finally lightened up."

"Don't call me that."

"Haha, sorry. I think I have some tickets in here, let me check..." Klavier rummaged through his bag.

"Ah, here we are! I think this is for tomorrow..." Klavier squinted at the text, and brought the piece of paper up to his face. Kristoph looked at him, concerned.

"Klavier, just how bad _is _your eyesight?"

"Fine! My eyesight is fine!"

"You sound like my apprentice. What does the menu say up there?" Kristoph pointed to the daily special above the window of the coffee shop they were sitting in.

Klavier had to squint, which answered Kristoph's question.

"Honestly, Klavier, if you have trouble seeing, visit your optometrist. Having glasses really isn't that big of a deal." He pointed to his own face.

"Aww, but then I'd look like you!"

"Is that it? You fear looking like your older brother?" Kristoph chuckled and took off his glasses. He handed them to Klavier.

"I want to see you in these. Put them on."

Klavier reluctantly did what he was told, and brought them to his face.

Everything was clear.

"Damn Gavin genes," he muttered. He turned his head and gazed at his reflection in the cafe window.

"You can see, can't you?" Kristoph asked.

Klavier didn't say anything.

Kristoph smiled. "We're more alike than I thought! You even look like me with those on."

The younger of the brothers smirked. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing.

----------

Klavier paced back and forth in his dressing room. Where was Kristoph? He said he'd come see Klavier before the show, and he didn't show up. It kind of worried Klavier, as his brother wasn't one to back out of plans without notice.

Lenny, one of the drummers, burst into the room. He looked at Klavier for a few seconds, before embracing the rock star.

"Klavier, I'm so sorry."

Klavier's heart started pounding. Lenny was very... unemotional, most of the time. It must have been bad.

"What? What is it?!

Lenny let go.

"You didn't hear? About your brother?"

Klavier was about ready to take a stroke.

"What? What happened to Kristoph?"

Silence.

"Lenny, tell me what happened to Kristoph or you're not playing tonight!"

"He... he was arrested. He killed some guy."

Klavier dropped his expensive guitar. It made an awful noise, but he didn't pick it up.

"What did you say?" he whispered.

----------

Klavier stared at his brother through the thick Plexiglas window of the Detention Center. He'd missed his concert to come here.

"Kristoph...Why? You didn't even know this man!"

Kristoph kept looking at the floor.

"Klavier, you don't know what you're getting into. Go home, just forget about it."

"No, Kristoph. No. You have a right to tell to me. I'm your brother. _I'll have to live with this as much as you will_!" Klavier screamed the last part. The guard by the door glanced over at him.

Kristoph adjusted his glasses. An eerie scar appeared on his hand when he did this.

"Ugh, what is that?! What did you do to yourself?"

The older Gavin ignored the question and stared straight into the singer's eyes. His ocean blue eyes seemed...Greyer. Foggier. Not as charming as Klavier had always remembered them to be. Kind of like his own.

"I killed that man because I'm an evil human being." Kristoph smiled at Klavier, as if to say, _"And so are you."_

----------

_Six months later_

Klavier stood at the prosecutor's bench with his head in his hands as he listened to his brother laugh on the witness stand. It was creepy, to say the least. He watched as the bailiff took him away, still laughing.

He heard that laugh as he was driving home that night, as he unlocked his front door, as he brushed his teeth.

He stared at his face in the mirror, at the new glasses he had just been prescribed, the ones he so desperately needed but couldn't bear to wear outside the house. He remembered that day at the cafe, the one where he'd put on Kristoph's glasses. These had the same prescription, he might as well be wearing Kristoph's. They even looked slightly similar.

He stared at his hand, at the new scar that somehow appeared across the back of it, and remembered the day at the Detention Center, where he'd seen the same scar on his brother's hand. He now knew what it meant. The Devil.

He remembered what Kristoph had always said, how the truth didn't matter, it wasn't important.

Klavier no longer wanted the truth, for it was too painful. Lies were easier, easier to say and easier to deal with.

So he lied to himself, told himself he wasn't like his brother. Told himself that he wasn't becoming more like him, every day. Told himself he was just being sensible when he started wearing his glasses.

He lied to himself when he said that he wasn't starting to pick up Kristoph's gestures and mannerisms, that he wasn't speaking pure English, without random German phrases.

He lied to himself when he said that he had _always_ liked sugar in his coffee, that it was just a coincidence that Kristoph did, too.

Kristoph was right. They were more alike than he thought.

This time, however, Klavier knew it wasn't a good thing. He knew what was coming.

He lied to himself when he was arrested for murder.

Lies were easier.


End file.
